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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26847625">By Any Name At All</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Last_Kenobi/pseuds/The_Last_Kenobi'>The_Last_Kenobi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020 [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Order 66, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Whumptober 2020, a freaking lot, do you know how many Jedi died that day, here's the story of just one, it was a lot, might have beens</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:14:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,808</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26847625</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Last_Kenobi/pseuds/The_Last_Kenobi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There are a billion unsung tales from the days of the Republic, the height of the Clone Wars, and the devastation of Order 66.<br/>A trillion forgotten names.</p><p> </p><p>Written for Whumptober 2020<br/>Day 6 - "Stop, please"</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Obi-Wan Kenobi &amp; Anakin Skywalker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020 [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956463</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>82</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>By Any Name At All</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Posting early because tomorrow is busy as heck.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>Her name was Lascy Mlynar, she was human, and when she was three, she ran away from home.</p><p>Not for any terrible reason, unless one counted that her brothers were hoarding all the toys and ignoring her, but that simply happened with siblings sometimes.</p><p>Lascy ran out the door in her nightdress and messily braided hair because the door was unlocked and her mother was busy, and it was warm outside. On Zion III, summer was beautiful but brief, and the opportunity was irresistible.</p><p>She ran all the way up to a nearby park and played by the swings, and all the other parents assumed she belonged to some other parent standing nearby, and she had total freedom for almost two hours.</p><p>But then some boy started throwing rocks at her and taunting her, and he was big and mean and nobody seemed to realize that Lascy needed help—and she wanted her mother very badly all of a sudden, or even her elder brothers—</p><p>She raised her hands instinctively to shield herself from the flying stones.</p><p>When Lascy looked up, she was not the only one to stare in astonishment at the rocks floating innocently in midair, caught by some invisible power that had come when the child had called upon it.</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>Her name was Lascy Mlynar, she was human, and when she was four, her parents gave her away to the Jedi Order.</p><p>At first she was frightened.</p><p>Her mother handed her over to a tall figure in huge brown robes that held her gently and spoke kindly, but her mother’s eyes were full of tears and her father was refusing to look in her direction. Had she done something wrong? Why did her brothers get to stay and she had to go?</p><p>Her family had tried to explain. They said she was special. Blessed. That everyone had special talents that they must use, and hers meant she had to go to a special place on Coruscant and study with the Jedi.</p><p>The stranger said the same things in a calm, soothing tone as he carried her onto his ship and settled onto a chair with her. He was funny looking, and he laughed when she said so. The cloaked man told her that he was from a planet called Glee Anselm, and that he was a Jedi Master. One day, he told her, she would be one too. She would learn to use the “Force” to help people, not just herself.</p><p>She thought about this for a little while and then said, “I can stop boys from throwing rocks at other people, too?”</p><p>He nodded very seriously, his friendly smile sparkling against his strange green skin. “Rocks, and other things.”</p><p>Lascy pondered this again, swinging her legs over the edge of his lap and playing with the hems of his billowing sleeves. “…What about my family?”</p><p>“Ah,” said the man. “You may see them again. I don’t know. You can ask the Force, it may tell you—but you won’t be alone, little one. With the Jedi, you will always have your own kind around you, people who understand and want to support you. The Jedi work together.”</p><p>“Like a family?”</p><p>“In our own way, yes. We are a little bit like a family.”</p><p>That didn’t sound so bad.</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>Her name was Lascy Mlynar, she was human, and when she was six years old, she met the person who was meant to be her Jedi Master.</p><p>They were a male human, and he was already a Jedi Master.</p><p>He was kind and soft-spoken and sunshine-y, and when he smiled it was the best thing ever. He was walking down through the gardens where Lascy was practicing Force-enhanced exercises with her classmates—standing on one foot and bending backwards with their arms outstretched, doing a handstand and then balancing all their weight on a single fingertip, things like that.</p><p>Lascy fell when he walked past.</p><p>The man he was walking with, a Master she recognized from the Council, merely paused and sent her a brief smile and then began talking to Master Yoda, who had been teaching.</p><p>But her meant-to-be Master stooped down at once and held out a hand—not forcing her to take it, not embarrassing her in front of the class, but simply quietly offering his help.</p><p>She took it, stood up, dusted herself off, and gave him a grateful bow and a “Thank you, Master.”</p><p>“You’re quite welcome,” the man said. He had a nice voice with a clean, soft accent that matched his soft reddish hair and gentle blue eyes.</p><p>“I don’t usually fall over,” she explained, not sure why she felt the need to tell him that. “I don’t know what distracted me.”</p><p>“It might have been me,” the Master confessed. “I apologize, little one. The Force startled me as I walked past you.”</p><p>“It startled me too,” she said, “We can split the blame three ways between you, me, and the Force.”</p><p>He gave her a surprised look, and then he smiled, and then he laughed—</p><p>It was the best smile she had ever seen and the nicest laugh she had ever heard, and that was when Lascy knew what the Force was trying to say.</p><p><em>Master</em>, it said. <em>Padawan</em>.</p><p>The man seemed to realize it as well. His eyes widened, and then he held out his hand once more—this time for a handshake, which she reciprocated.</p><p>“What’s your name, Initiate?” he questioned.</p><p>“Initiate Mlynar,” she said, tugging a little nervously on her shoulder-length chestnut hair that was, as always, falling out of the tidy braids the Creche Master put it into. “Lascy Mlynar. Master?”</p><p>He smiled again, and almost unconsciously reached up to brush the loose strands of hair that were waiting for a Padawan braid one day in the future. “A pleasure to meet you, Lascy Mlynar. I am Master Obi-Wan Kenobi.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>Her name was Lascy Mlynar, she was human, and when she was seven, her family died.</p><p>Lascy ran through the hallways, clutching hands with two of her friends, a Mon Cal boy named Daned and a Pantoran girl named Festia. Festia was crying silently, but she held Lascy’s hand and led the way down the darkened corridors.</p><p>A Clone solider suddenly emerged from a doorway, carrying a blaster.</p><p>He looked at them.</p><p>A few days ago, even this morning, Lascy would have waved and greeted him politely, this solider and hero of the Republic.</p><p>Now, she let go of her friends’ hands, raised her own in the air, and flung the Clone trooper back the way he had come with a heavy crunch. “<em>Go!</em>” she hissed, and they started running again.</p><p>“Where—where—” Daned spluttered, but Lascy just grabbed his hand again and kept running, pulling him towards the only room in this wing of the Temple that she could think of.</p><p>“C’mon,” she said.</p><p>They ran down a hallway that was a balcony on one side, and between the railings they could see an open meditation room. In a series of blinding, battering glimpses, Lascy saw a Master and Padawan pair standing back to back with matching green lightsabers, ricocheting blaster fire back at the Clones—a much smaller Padawan with a pinkish lightsaber erupted from behind a chair and stabbed a Clone through the chest—the apprentice with the green saber went down, and his Master cried out in pain—the second Padawan sprang forward to cover the Master’s back, but never made it, going down with a blaster bolt in the forehead. The Master decapitated four Clones and stumbled with a shot to his leg.</p><p>Then Lascy, Daned, and Festia were past the balcony and down another corridor.</p><p>There were dark scars on these walls that said there had already been fighting here—</p><p>There were two dead Knights on the floor, one of them a familiar looking woman, her eyes blown open in an expression of uncharacteristic shock.</p><p>She had a strange wound across her abdomen.</p><p>It didn’t look like a blaster bolt.</p><p>Fire suddenly came from behind them, and Lascy felt a violent tug on her arm as Festia dropped to the floor, two holes in her chest, her hand still wound tightly through Lascy’s.</p><p>She shook off her friend’s dead grasp and ran harder, pulling Daned along, and starting to cry silently herself, the image of Festia’s huge dark eyes half-lidded and empty imprinted across her vision.</p><p>The bolts from behind them were suddenly cut off, and they could hear the sound of lightsabers as older Jedi leapt to their defense. The air was full of not-good things, things that Lascy had never felt before, things that Jedi didn’t feel. Anger, horror, betrayal, anguish, even hatred.</p><p>And there was so much death everywhere, she could taste it like she could taste the plasma on the air.</p><p>There were ripping, tugging feelings deep inside her that told Lascy that people she cared about were hurting and dying, and she felt a surge of her own hatred for these people that were throwing things that not even Jedi could stop. Worse. Much worse than simple stones.</p><p>The Jedi were dying.</p><p>She was going to be alone.</p><p>Lascy dragged Daned through the doors and slammed them behind her, turning to find that they were not the only two hiding in the Council chambers.</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>Her name was Lascy Mlynar.</p><p>She had been human.</p><p>She had been a Jedi Initiate with a Master waiting to claim her as his Padawan.</p><p>She had been a Force-sensitive with friends and family and perpetually messy chestnut colored hair and an unwoven Padawan braid.</p><p>And when she was seven, she was stamped out of existence, her name lost among the ten-thousand and more Jedi who perished that day.</p><p>Her last stand had been a terrified stumble backwards, Daned behind her.</p><p>Her last refuge had been the Jedi Council Chambers, empty of all Jedi Masters and instead full of younglings, weaponless and defenseless.</p><p>Her last words had been directed at the stalking figure with the familiar face and the evil eyes, wielding a friendly blue lightsaber with cruel intent—the man who had grinned at the younglings whenever he had passed them in the hall, who waved from billboards across all of Coruscant, who had been made to be her brother-in-lineage—“Master Skywalker, stop, please stop, stop<em>, stop please—!</em>”</p><p>And then she was extinguished, and everything she was and was meant to be suddenly was nothing.</p><p>She was a dead traitor to the Republic, and she was thrown in an incinerator with two hundred others, and was forgotten.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>(If the faded old man who lived in an empty desert remembered her, he never spoke of it. There were so many things in his life that were too wonderful and terrible to speak of that it was impossible to tell.)</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
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